


I Wish I Knew

by Loveislove87



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, M/M, Motel AU, One Bed AU, Sort Of, alternative universe, college road trip AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21683848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveislove87/pseuds/Loveislove87
Summary: “I got you a ride.”Michael waited for the punch line, the “just kidding,” but Liz just looked at him with a big smile. He couldn’t help but smile back and tackle her to the bed.“You’re the best, Ortecho! The fucking best!”She laughed, gentle and so full of affection even Michael could feel it. “Don’t thank me yet.”Michael’s question of why was interrupted by a light knocking on the door.“Come in!” Michael’s face became a scowl when Alex Manes entered the room.Alex Manes. The kid Michael fell hopelessly head over heels for when he first saw him. Alex Manes who was kind and gentle and would do anything for you. Anything, as long as you weren’t Michael Guerin.orThe college, road trip, car breakdown, motel, there was only one bed, Christmas AU no one asked for
Relationships: Michael Guerin & Alex Manes, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 9
Kudos: 136





	I Wish I Knew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainVlamis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainVlamis/gifts).



> This started as a response to an anon prompt on Tumblr and has evolved into this little AU which I gift to CaptainVlamis, a kind, supportive, creative blog who deserves lots of love. Thank you for always cheering for the angst! Happy Holidays and I hope you like it!

“Liz, come on! You’re seriously not going home? It’s Christmas!”

Michael couldn’t help the whine in his voice. Since freshman year, he and Liz would carpool home a few times a year, usually around the holidays. His truck could only handle the trip now and then and, despite his loud protests to the contrary, he really liked Liz. They’d been partnered up in first year chem and he was immediately impressed when she challenged the professor on his technique. 

But now, sitting on her bed, surrounded by textbooks and notebooks and index cards, he wanted to flick her in the nose. 

“Sorry, Mikey. I have way too much work so no can do.”

He did not stomp his foot. He did not.

“What am I gonna do? If I’m not home for Christmas, Isobel will literally offer my balls on a platter.”

Liz looked up at that with a scrunched face. “Well if that doesn’t scream family merriment...”

Michael moved to the other bed in the room, Jenna never seeming to spend more than an hour or so a day in there, and landed with a groan, face buried in pillows that smelled like lavender.

“Y’know, Mikey, I’m a bit disappointed in you. And slightly offended, if I’m honest.” He lifted his head at that, eyebrow raised in suspicion. 

“What did _I_ do?”

“You really think I’d leave you hanging like this? At Christmas? With your psycho sister?”

“She’s not actually psy-”

“I got you a ride.”

Michael waited for the punch line, the “just kidding,” but Liz just looked at him with a big smile. He couldn’t help but smile back and tackle her to the bed. 

“You’re the best, Ortecho! The fucking best!”

She laughed, gentle and so full of affection even Michael could feel it. “Don’t thank me yet.” 

Michael’s question of why was interrupted by a light knocking on the door. 

“Come in!” Michael’s face became a scowl when Alex Manes entered the room.

Alex Manes. The kid Michael fell hopelessly head over heels for when he first saw him. Alex Manes who was kind and gentle and would do anything for you. Anything, as long as you weren’t Michael Guerin. Michael couldn’t remember how many times he’d tried to strike up a conversation just to have Alex walk away before he could or ignore him completely.

The bitterness made him want to gag.

“No.” Alex stood frozen at the doorway, eyes on his feet, but Michael didn’t notice. “I’m not driving back to Roswell with him. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Liz gently pulled his hair, yanking his head back. Michael let out a yelp while Liz got her books together, throwing them into her bag. “If you wanna get home and escape the wrath of Isobel, Alex is your best bet.”

She threw on her coat, tossed her bag over her shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mikey.”

On her way out the door, she gave Alex a tight hug, whispering something in his ear that made him glance up at Michael. Even though the man infuriated him (a bruised ego would do that), Michael couldn’t help but admire him. Alex was just empirically beautiful with his dark eyes and wild hair. He stood out in this stunning way, but he also managed to fall right into the crowd. Michael found him fascinating.

And fucking infuriating.

When Liz left, the two stood awkwardly in the small space, Alex glancing up from the floor now and then and Michael stuck debating with his hands firmly on his hips.

With a groan and a roll of his eyes, he said, “fine. Let’s go.”

Alex stepped out of the way when Michael charged past him to get his stuff. This would be a fucking blast.

***********

An hour in and the silence was enough to make Michael want to slam his head against the window. He couldn’t think of anything to say to Alex to break the heaviness and he was making himself absolutely insane taking in every little part of his chauffeur. The way his long hair moved slightly with the blowing heat. His nails, chipped but still mostly painted, tapping a beat only he could hear. The movement of his throat each time he swallowed. The shadow of stubble that decorated his chin and cheeks.

More than once Michael was sure Alex caught him looking but he did what he could to brush it off, looking out the windshield and crossing his arms in false misery.

As he glanced at his watch for the fifth time that hour, a pop followed by an unnatural amount of smoke immediately caught his attention. Alex muttered, “shit” under his breath and pulled over.

Both men hopped out and, after Alex had lifted the hood, Michael coughed as a wall of smoke hit him in the face.

“You don’t happen to know anything about cars, do you?”

Michael’s heart skipped at the softness of Alex’s voice. He realized Alex had literally not spoken since they’d moved ahead with the bizarre road trip plan.

Now that he heard it, he craved it.

“Um,” he cleared his throat. “I can change a tire and the oil, but this looks like a bit more than that.”

Alex sighed and leaned against the Jeep. “My dad’s gonna kill me.” With that, he walked off, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Michael watched his figure against the setting sun, strong shoulders, accidental swagger. He bit his lip, forcing himself to focus on something else. He shut the hood with a huff and climbed back into the passenger’s seat in a failed attempt to get away from the cold.

Michael closed his eyes and drifted, imagining Isobel’s fancy Christmas dinner but, instead of Max and his backhanded comments and lame ass literary references, it would be Alex sitting next to him. Alex, with his warm smile and melodic voice and dark-

“So.” Michael jumped when the door swung open and Alex spoke. “There’s a tow truck coming, maybe a half hour or so away now. They said they’d drop us off at a little motel in town and the garage is across the street. They’ll be able to look at it tomorrow and hopefully we’ll be good to go.”

With a groan, Michael rubbed his hand across his mouth. “We have to stay overnight somewhere?”

Alex shrugged and shut the door, heading around the back of the car to climb back inside himself. Michael took the few seconds he had left alone to try to relax. He just wanted to get home and get this over with. Why did the universe hate him?

*******

“We have one room available.”

The child sitting behind the desk didn’t look up from her phone when they’d asked to check in, her brown hair covering her face as she scrolled.

“Uh, can you double check? We don’t need anything big.”

Michael was squeezing the strap of his bag so tightly his hand was starting to go numb. He couldn’t share a room with Alex. Absolutely not. No way.

With an exaggerated sigh, the girl opened an old, tattered book and traced over some illegible scrawl with her finger.

“One room. 4A. Take it or leave it.”

Before he could say “no thanks,” Alex was already saying, “we’ll take it. Thank you.”

After a swipe of his credit card, Alex took the key and grabbed his bags, leaving Michael standing in a pool of denial.

They said nothing as they stared at the door, peeling paint and the A of the 4A hanging a bit off kilter. Michael felt Alex release a small shiver before he stepped forward and unlocked the door.

“Oh, give me a fucking break.” Michael couldn’t help but tell the world to fuck off after they’d managed to find the lights and flick them on. They both glared at the one queen bed in the middle of the dingy room. Two nightstands, a television, a small bathroom and one damn bed.

All Michael could think about was how he’d keep his excitement about being close to Alex _literally_ away from Alex.

“If you’re uncomfortable I can sleep in the Jeep. No big deal.”

Michael didn’t realize how long he’d been standing there, lost in his own thoughts. It must have been long enough for Alex to move into the room and notice Michael’s awkwardness.

He cleared his throat, determined to handle this. It was one night. One, sure to be restless, night, for Isobel. He could do it.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just gonna hop in the shower and then go to sleep. Long day.”

Alex nodded with a small smile and moved to the bed, taking his shoes off.

Michael sighed and wondered if a cold shower in this cold weather would kill him or just knock him out.

*******

After his long, frigid shower, Michael pulled on his pajamas (sweats and a t-shirt) and made his way out to main portion of the room. He found a sound asleep Alex curled up on one side of the bed. If it was possible, he looked even more soft and kind in his sleep.

Slowly, Michael sat on what was now his side of the bed, careful not to disturb Alex. He’d deny it later, but he’d watched Alex sleep for probably close to an hour. He memorized the way his hair had fallen slightly over his eyes, the small scar across his forehead, his lips just barely parted allowing puffs of air to escape. His arms looked stronger, tucked up under his pillow, veins dancing along the lines of his bicep. At some point he’d changed his clothes. Michael wasn’t sure what he was wearing beneath the covers, but he smiled at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt that was ripped and stretched around the neck.

Michael took a raspy breath, surprised to find he was emotional. He’d known for awhile now how much he liked Alex; how desperate he was for Alex to like him. Now, here they were, Alex no more tolerant, him no more relaxed, and it hurt like hell. He gave himself a light tap to the face and shook his head. He needed to get over it. Their paths rarely crossed anymore so, if he could just make it through this night and this trip, he’d be fine.

Quietly, he slid under the blankets and shut off the light. Every muscle in his body was flexed, wound too tight from the body beside him. He named the elements until sleep finally took him away.

*******

Michael was warm and incredibly comfortable. He sensed the room was still dark although he refused to open his eyes. He shifted, pulling the blankets higher and tighter to his body when he felt it.

The arm around his waist pulled him back slightly with a quiet groan.

He was sure this was heaven. He’d died at some point during the night and woke up in a world where Alex held him. But his eyes flew open and he knew for sure this wasn’t heaven. Same motel room with the same drippy faucet and disturbing shag carpet.

Michael tried holding his breath, afraid the pounding of his heart would wake Alex and demolish this perfect moment, but he found himself even more lightheaded; the room spinning slightly. Alex’s skin was soft and so tan for the winter. He had a few freckles on his arm splattered among light hairs. His fingers were rougher than the rest of him; callused and dry from hours of rehearsing. His nails were short with that ever-present chipping polish.

Before he could doubt himself, he slowly moved his hand, shifting Alex’s fingers so slightly, intertwining them together. Michael’s eyes stung as he felt Alex’s gentle breath against the back of his neck, felt the other man squeeze his fingers a bit tighter, pull Michael a bit closer.

This wasn’t real. They’d wake up and Alex would be apathetic once again and Michael would push, throw up his ten-foot walls.

But he’d always have this moment.

*******

He woke to a rustling. Clammy fingers were working to escape the hold they were in as the heat along Michael’s back moved away.

Biting his lip, he decided to rip off the band-aid, throwing the covers off and walking straight into the bathroom. He turned the shower as hot as it would go and leaned against the sink as he waited for steam to fill the small space.

A few tears fell into the small sink and Michael slammed his hands down on the dirty porcelain. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he released a humorless laugh. “Get the fuck over it, Michael.”

He took longer than he probably should in the scorching shower, scrubbing every inch of skin while gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt.

The towel was too rough and too small, making his already red skin burn. He threw it against the wall and ran his hands through his wet curls. The floor was an odd, brown tile, with some bits missing and questionable stains. As Michael stared at a spot where a tile was replaced with a random, shimmering green piece, he tried to calm himself down.

Alex didn’t like him.

Alex didn’t mean to hold him.

Alex didn’t want him.

He wasn’t good enough for Alex.

Fuck Alex.

No, it’s not his fault. That’s not fair.

Fuck his car, though.

With a groan, he pulled his t-shirt back on and practically fell over trying to hop back into his jeans with damp legs.

He threw the door open with a, “alright, let’s get out of here.”

But he was surprised to find Alex sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to the bathroom. Michael had spent an unusual amount of time watching Alex, learning his small ticks and tells.

But you didn’t need to be an expert in Alex to know he was crying.

Cautiously, he moved forward. “Alex? Are you okay?”

With a sniffle and a wipe of his face, Michael watched his head nod, too quickly to be natural.

Alex cleared his throat and stood with a quiet, “yep.” He didn’t look at Michael as he started toward the door. “The garage called. Jeep’s all set so we can head out now.”

Michael stood frozen as Alex walked out the door without a glance back at Michael. Had waking up with Michael in his arms been so upsetting? Was he that disturbed by him?

With a fresh dose of anger plowing through his veins, Michael shoved his arms in his jacket and followed Alex to the garage.

******

The drive was silent aside from the noises of the Jeep and the road beneath its wheels. Michael had sat, muscles aching from the tension in his body, unmoving for the remainder of their trip. Alex had pulled up in front of the Crashdown once they’d made it to Roswell, the halfway point between his house and Isobel’s place.

Without a word, Michael grabbed his bag and got out of the truck, closing the door a bit louder than he needed to.

As he stomped around the car, he bumped into Alex who’d been moving the same way. They both stood on the sidewalk, cheery shoppers and alien enthusiasts skirting around them.

“Thanks for the lift, Manes.” Michael turned without making eye contact and hefted the bag onto his shoulder with a groan, shoulder stiff with the journey.

“Merry Christmas, Michael.”

He shook his head with a huff and gave a wave over his shoulder, too exhausted and just plain sad to continue the charade.

*****

Isobel’s place was decorated, floor to ceiling, in silver and gold. Michael was never a fan of Christmas (a stark reminder of the family he never really got to have) but Isobel always wanted him there and her celebrations always felt more formal than homey; something she may be offended to hear but he was grateful for.

He was greeted with a big hug and smile, followed immediately by a smack on the arm for being a day late. They’d caught up and had a small meal before Isobel had to start getting ready for the big party that night. She’d sent him to his room, demanding he relax, take a nap, whatever he needed to actually try enjoying himself that night.

He rolled his eyes but gave her a kiss on the cheek before making himself comfortable in the guest bedroom. The bed was so soft and big, he felt like he could easily lose himself in it for days. Michael was able to doze for a while, the sun setting outside now and a slight chill in the air.

He sighed and finally relented, leaving the comfort of the five-star bed and heading to the bathroom to take a glorious shower with some of the best smelling shampoo he ever came across.

Humming to himself, he grabbed his bag and tossed it onto the bed before drying himself off and detangling a few stubborn curls. Opening the bag for fresh underwear, he was surprised to find an envelope with his name scribbled across the front.

Michael quickly put on his briefs and sat in a daze on the bed. He knew the scrawl, could identify it anywhere, but he was terrified to see what was inside.

Shaking fingers pried the seal, ripping it a bit once it put up a fight. He held his breath as he read.

_Michael,_

_You’re in the shower now, avoiding me like the plague, and I feel sick. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or upset you. When I woke up, I should have given you space. I was selfish and I’m sorry._

_This trip was supposed to be my chance to finally talk to you. To tell you that I have never been able to find the right words when I’m around you. That I think you’re brilliant. That I love how awkward you are with a guitar. How special I think you are. But I’ve never been very brave and now I ruined everything._

_Anyway, this turned into a love letter when it should be an apology. I’m sorry this trip was as rough as it was. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope Isobel isn’t too mad about you being late. You can totally blame me._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Alex_

Michael was practically panting by the third reading. He skimmed over the words; _I woke up and should have given you space. Finally talk to you. How special I think you are. Love letter._

Alex liked him? Wanted him? Alex thought _Michael_ was upset about the motel?

He stood and started pacing the room like a madman, scrunching up the letter in his hands then cursing at himself when he realized what he’d done. He moved to the dresser and delicately placed the letter down, smoothing out the wrinkles and tracing the writing with trembling fingers.

Michael looked up suddenly and found himself staring at his reflection. He was smiling, for the first time in a long time, with tears shining on his cheeks.

With a laugh, he wiped his face and started flying around the room, getting dressed into the suit Isobel had ready for him while dialing his phone one handed, dropping it at one point with another curse.

“Hey Mikey! Merriest of Christmases!”

“Yeah. I need your help, Liz.”

**********

He was sure he’d never been so nervous in his life. He stood in the center of the Crashdown, fairy lights the only source illumination. Michael shifted his weight, constantly eyeing the clock to see that time had barely moved.

His breath caught as the door finally chimed and a snow-covered Alex entered.

“Arturo? It’s Alex!”

“Hey.”

The door closed with a small thud and Alex stood frozen. Michael was sure he looked good. He and Isobel had spent close to an hour after his scheming call to Liz getting him as presentable as possible.

Moving slowly as to not startle Alex, he said, “I wanted to give you your present.”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed making a little crease on his forehead that had Michael smiling. There was nothing that wasn’t perfect about Alex Manes.

“Liz said she was worried about her dad, so she asked me to…”

“I asked Liz to lie. And I’m not sorry.”

Alex’s jaw dropped like a cartoon character and again Michael couldn’t shake his smile.

He offered out a small box, wrapped a bit sloppily since he demanded he do it himself, much to Isobel’s dismay. “Merry Christmas, Alex.”

Alex blinked but didn’t move a muscle, so Michael shook the box a bit with a teasing laugh.

Eventually Alex wiped his hand on his pants, sinfully tight, Michael noted, and took the box. He opened it slowly and looked confused once again by its contents.

He turned the box over and a guitar pick, glittery black with little green alien heads, fell into his palm. “I loved this pick! Liz gave it to me for my birthday years ago, but I lost it.”

Michael shook his head, feeling the seriousness of what he was about to say fill the room. “You dropped it in the library one day. You were playing with it, y’know? Sort of shifting it between your fingers. But then you realized the time and you ran to class. It fell on the floor.”

Alex nodded and met Michael’s eyes. He could see Alex was hesitant, still concerned. “You had it?”

Again, Michael nodded. “I’ve carried it in my wallet every day.”

Alex swallowed and with a quiver to his voice asked, “why?”

Michael smiled. “Because then I’d always get to be close to you.”

Alex let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and looked at the pick again. Michael moved even closer and moved his hands to Alex’s waist.

“Alex?”

After a minute and a sniffle, Alex looked up, dark eyes meeting hazel in the magical light.

“I love you.”

The smile he got in return lit up the entire space. Alex beamed, tears falling but eyes crinkled in happiness.

“Oh my God, is this real?” Michael laughed as Alex playfully poked him in the chest.

“Yeah, it’s real.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against Alex’s, memorizing the softness of his mouth, the salty taste of the tears that had travelled down his face.

Michael rested his forehead against Alex’s as they stood, unconsciously swaying to a rhythm only they seemed to hear.

“The motel was like a dream for me. I woke up with you wrapped around me and I-I never wanted it to end.”

Alex moved so his nose rubbed gently against Michael’s, eyes closed. “So why did you shut me out?”

Michael shrugged. “You pulled away when I woke up. I was sure you regretted it, or you were grossed out or something.”

Alex moved his hands to hold Michael’s face, eyes scanning every feature making Michael feel exposed and vulnerable.

“How much time have we wasted assuming we knew what the other was thinking?”

Michael swallowed past the lump in his throat, pulling Alex closer to him. “Too much.”

Alex smiled and rested his head against Michael’s once more. “I love you, Michael.”

Michael laughed and tucked his face against the soft, cool skin of Alex’s neck. “I love you.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Alex.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr  
> captainsassmanes


End file.
